Mechanical Throne
by KenSan1990
Summary: The Hulk didn't catch Tony when he fell, and left him badly injured. The Avengers had the Tesseract, but Loki was in the wind. But Loki, still attempting his old schemes, decided to use Tony's misfortune to his advantage. Little he know the emotions that would ensue. Eventual Frostiron. Maybe glimpses of other Tony pairings.
1. Prologue

A/N: I've wrote a oneshot, and I've just really gotten into this fandom so I'm giving it another crack.

Hopefully, its decent enough. To be perfectly honest, this all came from a dream. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Prologue.

Everything that fluttered around Tony seemed to be like a giant cacophony of bugs all buzzing at different tunes, in different rhythms. There was nothing distinct, no smell, no sound, no taste, no feel that registered to lock his mind onto. Not until he heard Fury yelling:

"Get him to the medical bay, peel this suit off!"

_No_, he thought, loudly in his own head. He thought he had said it. _No, not the suit_...

"I said move it already...!" Of course, Fury's voice would be the only one that would stand out.

"JARVIS..."he croaked out, quivering at the sound of his own voice.

But the headpiece wasn't on. In JARVIS' voice, Tony could hear: "_You are alright sir, the suit has sustained considerable damage._"

He wondered if maybe that was the last thing he heard JARVIS say before clunking against the ground and passing out. How long had he been passed out for, precisely? Once again, the bugs started their cacophony.

"Stark, you better damn well not be dead." Fury said. Tony could feel Fury's closeness hovering over him, and even if he wanted to open his eyes, he dared himself not to because he didn't want to have to look at Fury try and be sympathetic.

After the last snarking thought, his body gave way again, the noise decrescendoing into a sleeping deepness he only felt when he got himself just a slight bit more drunk than usual.

* * *

If there was one thing about all of the metal in the Stark Tower, it was that Pepper could always hear her high heels as they clacked down the long corridors towards Tony's office. A heavy sigh was going through her the closer she approached, heavy files laying against her arm.

She entered the office, slowing down as she approached the desk and the computers. It seemed like the computers had grown, making it hard to see behind the desk. Clearing her throat, Pepper got close to the desk. "Tony."

"Mm?" she heard, and she walked around. "Don't get too close."

"What are you doing?"

"Something," he replied, cryptic. Perplexed, Pepper leaned in against his order, but it was nothing new.

In his hand, Pepper saw a syringe. There were all manner of things that Tony would do to his body to make modifications, usually to help with the arc reactor and all the subsequent adjustments, but she could tell what was going on. She grabbed his hand, yanking it as the tip was about to be thrust into his leg.

"What is this?"

Tony's eyes met Pepper's. "A syringe."

"Tony...please," she tried to yank, but he was holding on tight to it. "Give me the syringe."

"Pepper, this is just medicine, it's gonna work."

"Just like the last one?" she asked. Suddenly, Tony's hand loosened on the syringe and it practically fell out of his hand, down onto his lap. Before he could get a second hand on it, Pepper grabbed the syringe and moved away from Tony. It worried her that she would have to be doing this for every time she was in his office.

"Yeah, it will work just like the last one," Tony said. "Better even."

"Tony," she pulled up a chair close, putting a hand on his arm. "Tony, you're fine the way you are."

"There's always room for improvement."

"You don't need to be improved, Tony. You're perfect."

And usually, that was the kind of argument that fed into Tony's egomania, and in normal circumstances he would be like a puppy rolling over to get his belly rubbed, but she could see a curl in his lip and a twitch in his brows. "I'm going down to the lab now," he said, as if unfazed by what she had just said.

One of Tony's redeeming qualities, Pepper always thought, was his zeal. It created a drive in him to be able to keep pushing on. It was that same drive that kept him up at night, made him live on coffee and alcohol, and showed the world just what the human mind could do.

But now, that zeal was less of a fire bursting and more of a fire being doused, slower and slower, until there was little left. Once his mind was made up, there was little influence Pepper had despite the years that she had spent with him. Nontheless, she got out of Tony's way.

Tony moved out from under the desk, manuevering to make sure he didn't knock into anything.

"I'm having JARVIS keep an eye on you," she said, following him along, out of the office and watching as he reached the elevator, pressing the button. Near immediately, the doors opened. "Tony, I'm just trying to make sure you're safe. It's been months, and the doctors..."

"Pep, please just stop." Once they were inside, she saw the exasperation on Tony's face.

"They're doing everything they can to..."

"Pepper."

It was that voice, no matter how soggy, that could command an audience. It was that force that quieted her, no matter all that she was prepared to say. "Pepper, I've been through it with the doctors, with the S.H.I.E.L.D. specialists, looked into the mysticisms, I've done it all. Now it's my turn."

"I know."

"Trust me when I say, I know what I'm doing."

It was Pepper's silence that said the most. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Tony looking at her, then away as if he were annoyed. Tony had every righ tto be annoyed with her and her actions, even if she was protecting him from himself. Not often did she stop him from his work, but there came a line, a time and place for everything, and she knew that whatever "improvement" Tony was considering would do more harm than good. That was the trouble of knowing chemicals and how they works. Some could be formed into helpful substances, others could be formed into hurtful. Some could be two sides of the same coin.

When the elevator opened again, Pepper knew she was staying inside. But she lurched forward, grabbing Tony's shoulder. He rolled it away from her. "Pep, I'm going to be by myself for a while. No interruptions."

"I have a few things for you." She said, poising the papers towards him. Tony turned, looking up at her weary. Without having to be told, she set them on his lap. "I want them looked over _today_. Not tonight, not tomorrow morning, _today. _Decisions have to be made."

He gave her a curt nod, picked them up, and then nodded again. "I'll see what I can do."

"_Today_." Pepper stressed again.

But Tony was moving away from her. In the midst of the mechanical whirring, she heard a small click. The same click that she had been hearing every so often, as if it meant something. "Tony."

"I heard it."

"Please fix it."

"It's a reminder Pep."

She stared on at him, curious. "Of what?"

Tony turned to face her, and she got to get a good look at him where he sat, almost comfortably, in the wheelchair. His hands were folded together over the files, and there was an almost whimsical smile on his face.

Finally, he turned away from her, going into the lab with the door sealing closed behind him. It didn't matter if she told JARVIS to keep an eye on Tony, Tony was still going to do what he wanted, when he wanted. And since JARVIS only retained so much control, it seemed like Pepper's threat was going unchecked.

* * *

A/N: So yeah...its a start. Hopefully a good one. I hope you all enjoy it. Till next time, KenSan out!


	2. Chapter I

A/N: So...I got a few reviews and I knew that I didn't give too much. Plus, I had wtritten this and decided that I should post it. Enjoy.

I should clarify. I didn't dream all of this X3. Just a few scenes.

* * *

Chapter I.

In the days following the intense battle, and subsequently Tony being dragged into the medical bay of S.H.I.E.L.D. there hadn't been much said, though everyone was watching on as Tony Stark recovered. Several times, his eyes fluttered open in semi-consciousness, but he never fully awoke, much to the dismay of those around him.

They had expected him to be fine, encased in his Iron Man suit. But there were some foes who could do more than scratch the paint. S.H.I.E.L.D. kept what was left of the suit in tact, hung up as if Tony were prepared to wear it again at a moments notice. But there were dents, scratches, and tears through the metal plating as if it were nothing more than a toy. It was like a car, fresh out of wreck, with ugly black mark marring its pieces. And then, if someone dared to look, there were the metal plates hanging from the back of the suit where it was pelted and driven into the ground until there was nothing left but the creator inside of it.

When Tony opened his eyes fully, like a deer in headlights, in the medical bay, he didn't react as though he knew what was going on, nor did he panic when realizing that there was something off about the whole scene.

Although no one was immediately at his side, everyone was periodically checking in on him to see if he was okay, or in the least, that he was stable.

Shallow cuts and bruises were on his face and arms, but there was a hint that there was something wrong with him that they couldn't see. For the first day, his neck had been held in a brace before they said it was okay. Hours after that, Tony was awake, not having seen how horrendous it all looked, but feeling as his body came back to life.

The billionaire didn't have to call for anyone before Pepper came in first. "You never hurry, do you?" she commented.

Tony cleared his throat. "Hurry what?" he asked, seeming playful.

The first sense of touch registered when Pepper grabbed hold of his hand, petting it like a mother looking over her child. His fingers gradually wrapped around hers, the smile sticking to his face. "Nice seeing you, kiddo."

Pepper laughed. "Nice to see you too, Mr. Stark."

The doors to the room opened again. Pepper turned to looked. "Hello, Mr. Fury."

"Good morning, Ms. Potts. Stark." Fury got close to the bed. "You're one crazy person, do you know that?"

Tony winced trying to move. It was then that Pepper's hand squeezed tighter on his. "Don't move." She whispered.

"The world is greatful for you moving the missile into the portal."

"I smell a 'but'..."

"But, you practically got yourself killed. And what's worse about the whole matter..."

"Please..."Pepper started to pled to him for second. It took Tony by surprise to listen to her be like that. In those moments, what happened on the battlefield was coming back to him slowly. He directed the missile into the opening the Tesseract had made, and then realized, as he was falling back down, through space, that his suit had lost propulsion shortly after his failed attempt at calling Pepper. He passed out on the way down, out of oxygen, and seeming to be out of life. The doors to Earth were closing, leaving him prepared to float in the abyss until he suffocated inside the suit and was nothing but metal floating into the universe.

That changed, apparently. He was propeled downward, falling at maximum velocity, no JARVIS humming in ears that he could hear, and no body that could react. Nothing registered entirely until he first heard all the ruckus, and heard where Fury was calling out orders to rip off the suit. All that he knew was that his efforts were to try and save New York City from annilation, and that he had succeeded, but there was still one little nagging thing left:

Loki.

"Where is he?" Tony asked, adding it up.

"In the wind. We're tracking him again, but he's gone quiet."

And so had Tony. He was restless in the bed, feeling trapped. The only thing that held him on was Pepper where she clung to his hand.

After that, Fury had left. Half of him expected the rest of the Avengers to come in and parade around, but they hadn't just yet. They all watched on, seeing where Fury had left the room after giving Tony the grim news. There was no threat initially, Loki hadn't made any attempts at life while on the planet, yet they knew he was around, and that they could feel him in the air. Thor smelling it like some foul stench and searching endlessly, but Loki had hid himself amongst the still frightened masses.

* * *

Days after Pepper had to take the syringe from Tony, Tony was still hidden away in his lab working on various projects. One most specific was a car that he had brought down, working on the innards of it as he could, readjusting it to suit his new set of needs. Not that he minded Happy driving him around, but there were moments when he needed peace and quiet; the serenity of not having to deal with anyone, and going a hundred miles an hour on roads that he had memorized by heart.

Stuck underneath the car, having been working on its underbelly, he heard someone knocking on the door. "_Agent Barton_, _sir._" JARVIS said.

Using his hands, Tony propelled out from underneath the car, seeing where Clint was. "Let him in, JARVIS."

The doors opened on JARVIS' command, and Tony rolled back under the car.

"Pepper said I'd find you here." Clint said.

"Yep."

Clint gazed around the disarray that was Tony's workshop, and he seen, somewhat away from the car that Tony was under, was the wheelchair that the inventor had made himself confortable in. Something about the device seemed sad and lonely.

"How long you been down here?" Clint asked. He sat on a set of tool cabinets, moving in closer to Tony.

"Don't know. Few hours, few days. I lost count," he replied. Clint had his arms crossed and was surveying the entire area, seeing where there were a few machines propelled by their own will, likely doing pre-ordered work for Tony. "What? Pepper send you down here to pull me out?"

"No," Clint replied, eyes lulling back to Tony. "I was actually sent by Rogers and Tasha to make sure you're alright. They haven't heard much from you."

"Been busy. Working on stuff around the shop, getting things done and all that. Business as usual." He said, pulling out again. He was partially smeared with grease and had a few tools in his hands. "Trying to get this baby fixed up. Wanna give me a hand?"

"Sure," Clint lifted off of the cabinet and knelt down by Tony. "What do you need?"

"A new set of legs," he said, hardly joking or sarcastic. Clint still smiled as if it were a joke. "Just a part over there..."he pointed across the room. "Up top there, see it?" It was by the remainders of the Mark VII Ironman suit. It was still shredded the way that it had been many months ago. "Not you," Tony called out, seeing where Dummy was propelling over to the specified place.

"Ever going to come out and play?" Clint asked, reaching up for the piece. "Like...dinner maybe? Or a public event?"

"Nothing on my calender."

"We've left messages."

"Is that what those blinking things were?" Tony asked sarcastically. "Didn't notice them."

"Well, the public still thinks we did okay," said Clint, walking the piece over and kneeling by Tony, watching him as he leaned on his elbows, supporting his body well. He could see where Tony was having trouble breathing despite the minimal amount of labor. "S.H.I.E.L.D hasn't said anything about Loki; people assume we have him captured."

That was when Clint seen Tony lie back on the board he propelled himself on. "Tony? What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing. Should I get Pepper...?"

"No," he was adament, still breathing heavily. "Dummy!" he called out. The robot once getting the item Clint reached for was now coming over to him. "Oxygen." He said. Clint knelt beside him, holding his hands underneath Tony's shoulders, easing him up. The robot zipped by Clint, an oxygen tank in its claws, and it set the tank down beside Tony. Immediately, Clint began work, turning the knob.

Out of greed, Tony stole the mask from Clint and pressed it to his face, the plastic fogging with each long breath. Although the archer wasn't aware, each breath seemed like the sweetest thing he could eat or drink. Drink especially. Tony smirked at his own inner thoughts. At his side, Clint kept an eye on the tank and on Tony until the inventor decided to lift up on his elbows, the mask dropped against his chest.

"Need a breather?" Clint chuckled.

"Har-har..."Tony was smiling with him. His eyes cast over to the chair for a second before he started moving with the board. After a second, Clint followed. As Tony lifted himself, it was Clint who was trying to aid him into the chair. Each touch, he noticed that Tony shifted away from as if he were poison, trying to get himself in alone. Once settled, he leaned down to adjust his feet.

Perhaps it was the downcast eyes that caught Clint by surprise. Although Tony was settled, and his back straight, shoulders squared, and posture relaxed yet in control, he could see the shame that crossed over Tony's face knowing that someone else had seen the ritual. It wasn't as if all that much had changed. It was still a hardware, a kind of exoskeleton like the Ironman, expect that it wasn't the same exoskeleton that fought for the planet and that gave Tony the ability to be more than just Tony Stark.

When Tony's eyes rose and struck Clint's, it seemed as though Clint drowned. "Everything okay?"

"Not the adjective I'd use..."

"Everything..."and Clint searched for a word. "Acceptable?"

"Barely."

Clint softened, if only for a second. "You can let down the barrier anytime."

"What barrier?" he asked. "You're starting to sound like Cap there."

Clint shrugged. "What now?" Tony was wordless, sitting in his place like a doll just staring out into the world. It looked eerie, like Tony wasn't even alive. "You need anything else?" he asked.

"No...car's almost done. After that we'll all have to have a get together. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Maybe Kansas."

The smile showed up again. "Right. I'll tell the others about Kansas."

"Thanks."

Clint walked out, knowing that was what Tony was waiting for. It was like he wouldn't move the wheelchair otherwise.

* * *

For months Loki lurked around the city, watching as it was constructed from where he and Chitauri and had torn it down. Especially, he watched as the Stark Tower, the once shining beacon of his prize, was rebuilt. It didn't take long to realize that the Avengers were looking for him, and he let himself hide in places outside of New York City, wandering around the Midgardian areas so long as it meant going into hiding.

He cloaked himself, looking like the rest of the people in the cities that he would visit. Overhead, at every crack of thunder, a mild shiver went through him and he would drift away, finding himself in another place, or making a decoy to stay to make it seem as though he hadn't moved from the spot if he was being tracked.

But it wasn't just Thor or the Avengers he was worried about entirely. While many of the Chitauri may have been extinguished, the Other, or even Thanos, were still lurking in the shadows. They may have been ready to snatch him away and bring him into a depths of a Hell that he could hardly imagine.

Everywhere he turned, there was a shadow that he saw that frightened him. It seemed like there were days that he wouldn't sleep, if only because he wondered what would happen if he allowed himself the freedom to rest and feel safe on Midgard. He knew that, likely, the smartest thing to do would be to flee Midgard, but he had no means to do so. The Avengers had taken the Tesseract, and likely Thor had returned it to Asgard for safekeeping. And then he remembered the threat that had been promised to him:

"_No crack, no barren moon in which you can hide_..." and he worried about the thought but kept it to himself.

But as much time passed, he wondered if he was safe. Days leaked into months, and there had been no sign of any threats other than Thor having tried to track him down. Now there was nothing. Nothing to fear, nothing to worry.

After many months, while in the heart of New York City, Loki let his guard down somewhere amongst the bright greenery of Central Park. His hands were tucked into the pockets of the suit he was wearing. He gazed around at all the people walking, jogging, and the animals they had running around with them. None of the looked to him like he was a worry to them. He even smiled, nodding his head, and waving at them before continuing on his way.

As he left the park and crossed into the city, he dared himself to stop at a coffee vendor, having gotten himself to live off the acrid Midgardian stuff after having not slept for so long. He paid, taking the Styrofoam cup and looking over his shoulder as he cut through an alley, aimlessly walking and sipping on the hot drink.

Suddenly, everything seemed to go black. He was forced against an invisible wall, and the drink sloshed up onto his chest. He winced at the burn, but the force of being thrown was much worse.

"You have failed!"

There was no trembling in him, he had to face up to what he had done, but Loki didn't have the force to believe he was all powerful against Thanos at the moment. What was worse was he couldn't see the red-faced monster. Suddenly, he was thrown to the side, catapaulted into the ground. He had lost grip of the cup.

"You have failed and you have tried to run away!" Loki was trying to crawl, trying to get up. He was forced to the ground. When he attempted to look up, he could finally see the monster that was berating him, beating him into the ground.

"I can explain," Loki said, feigning calm.

"There is so excuse for failure. You promised us Midgard."

"I am still working on the capture of Midgard. These things take time."

There was silence, and he wondered if he had managed to gain a bit of Thanos' trust, even if it was an outright lie. "I-I have figured that, instead of the direct approach that was taken thus, perhaps something more inward. Hit these dull creatures where it hurts the most. Gain their trust, and then use it against them."

A hand was tight around his neck, and he felt small, dangling mid-air. The oxygen was bleeding from his lungs as he kicked and writhed. "You are soft."

He didn't fight Thanos immediately, if only because he worried the consequences. "No...but Midgardians are ..."he squeaked at a squeeze, "...at times. You...you corner them and then they are humbled by small things. I wish to take advantage of this little blunder of theirs...aagh..."he was choking, eyes ready to bulge out of his head.

"You have taken up your chances."

"I...I implore you to...to allow me this venture. I will not fail in this effort. I have watched them for so long. I can...allow myself closeness to the,...the Man of Iron and then work from there."

Suddenly, there was a loosening around his neck. "You make false promises, Trickster."

"I keep my word, on torturous punishment," Loki said. He was squeezed hard before being dropped to the ground. Every breath was taken with greed, and he rubbed his neck.

"I will watch you progress. If you should come close to failure..."but the blackness faded away. Loki was once again in the alley, on all fours, gazing around at the dirty and quiet surroundings. He wondered if there was any hint to the encounter. Standing up, gaining grasp of his body again, Loki stumbled along, back out onto the street.

Now, he had to figure out how to get close to the Man of Iron.

* * *

A/N: Welp, I introduced Loki. now...how will he get close to Tony? You'll have to wait and see. Till next time, KenSan out!


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: This took a little longer. Getting back into the school season. I actually also wanted this story to seem interesting, because it does have a larger plan but I feel like all I'm giving you is introductory things.

Nonetheless, hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

Chapter 2.

"No, no, no...I'm fine. Really, perfectly fine..."

Tony was thrust into a coughing fit, and he was forced back down onto the bed. He had been that way ever since he finally emerged from the grotto he called his workspace.

Above him, Pepper was hovering, keeping herself at a distance as Bruce went through a routine examination. "Almost done..."he said to himself. For the entire time, Pepper hadn't said a word. This had happened two times before. Often, Tony would go into spells where he had difficulty breathing, but sometimes his immune system was too weak.

"Pep, really. I'm perfectly fine. Got some...dust and fumes in me from downstairs."

The look on Banner's face seemed disagreeable to that fact. "It sounds like an upper respiratory infection," he said. "Easy to cure."

"Thank you," Pepper replied in Tony's stead. It was obvious by Tony's face that he wasn't as pleased.

"I'll write a prescription, should clear it up in a few days," said Bruce, standing up. He stood over top of Tony. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he watched where Tony closed his eyes and kept struggling to breathe. His lips were sealed closed and his nostrils were flaring to compensate. "You'll be more comfortable if you're propped up."

There wasn't a single flinch in Tony. Bruce motioned towards Pepper as he started out of the room. It took her a second to follow, going back to Tony and pulling up the cover. She could see where Tony was starting to fall asleep.

Not wanting to disturb him, knowing how turbid it was for Tony to get to sleep in the first place, she walked out and closed the door softly. Outside, Banner was waiting with his arms crossed and brows furrowed upward, unsuredness crossing his features.

"How's Tony been holding up?"

"Okay, I guess," Pepper tucked a loose hair behind her ear. "He hasn't entirely been himself, but I think he's coping." She said this despite thinking of days before when he had been ready to thrust the syringe in his leg.

"I talked to Clint on my way in," Banner said. "He was leaving from seeing Tony. Said that Tony had an episode downstairs."

Pepper's hands were tight at her waist, one hand squeezing tight around the other wrist. "It must have been part of this."

"It's the reason I went to see him. By the sounds it's been there a few days, long enough to be noticed."

"So...what? He was hiding it?" Bruce shrugged. "That really wouldn't do anything, would it? An upper respiratory infection isn't fatal."

"It's not fatal with the right treatment. But untreated...," he looked to the door. "Probably wishful thinking for him. Being trapped as he is, you look for a way out in every opportunity."

It took Pepper several seconds to realize what the scientist meant, but after that she looked to her feet and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like what some of the doctors said," she shook her head. "I thought we were past this stage."

Banner put a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing. Pepper covered his hand with her own, holding back her feelings for her boss. All of her wanted everything to be okay, but there were so many variables knowing Tony. The moment she thought she had him figured out, he managed to conjure up, or at least invent, another way around something.

"Give him time. When things change, people change. I've heard he did a few crazy things after what happened in Afghanistan."

It made Pepper smile, because Bruce was smiling. "He got a new baby..."she said, and the thoughts were partially laughable, thinking of the suit as a breathing individual. At least, when Tony didn't inhabit it. She cleared her throat to stop the laughter. "I have all of you for moral support, I know. So...if I need anything, I'll keep in touch. Maybe if he's around people more, it might help him realize that we don't see him as...whatever he sees himself as."

They said their good-byes and Bruce departed to the room he stayed in whenever he returned to the Stark Tower. He made his visits infrequent, not willing to inhabit New York City for very long. Every now and then didn't hurt, especially when he was able to stow away in laboratories that Tony had given him access to. Mostly, he came for the company of the smart-aleck genius, because it was a kind of comfort to talk to someone who knew what he was talking about. Even if Tony's witticisms seemed lackluster. Then he thought about Tony, and about how sometimes he needed the comfort. Every time Bruce saw him, it seemed as though pieces were chipping away.

In melancholy, and after several seconds of contemplation—debating whether to go back in the room with Tony or not—she walked away, planning to get a few things ready for him to get well.

* * *

The hours blended together in his mind. It was worse than some kind of hangover when he was sick. Especially feeling the way that his chest was weighing down, as if the arc reactor was pushing further and further in. Or worse, as if it had suddenly stopped and the shards were making their way to his heart, piercing into the pericardium, tearing through the muscle.

Each cough rattled him, and fever was touching on his features. His face went pale while his cheeks reddened to the fever. A sweat was breaking out on his forehead. All of that was foreign to Tony, if only because he wasn't thinking about it. He didn't see his own face, there was nothing nearby to look. All he knew was it felt as though he has been beaten up by a supervillan combo. All of them had served him up on a platter, no other Avengers behind him to back him up. When he opened his eyes, he had to convince himself that he was just sick and over-exaggerating the pain, but somewhere along the line what had once likely been a dream seemed to feel so real.

Tony rolled his head to look at where his arms were lying overtop of the blanket. He looked for the bruises and contusions he was sure that he had. There were no busted knuckles, or bleeding cuts that showed up. Why did it feel so real?

Taking a ragged breath, Tony wriggled in the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. When he closed his eyes, the world was spinning. Even in the darkness, it seemed like he was just sitting on some carnival ride and was falling down, flipping, spinning, slipping down into the darkness.

There was roaring in Tony's ears, and his eyes snapped open, convinced that he had heard the Hulk roaring him awake, yet there was still semi-darkness in the room where the sun was setting. It was all vague in his head. He lost consciousness, and the suit lost power, and he fell down, down, down…

And then there was an intense flare through his somewhat conscious body. He bounced or skidded. Something had grabbed him at the waist, but he was slammed against the hard pavement. It had happened many times before. Foes just thrashed him around, against the ground, trying to pry him out of his suit. Like he was some egg.

Something hurt. It hurt so bad, stabbing deep in his back, tearing through the clothes that he was wearing. There was something warm around the mild of his back. It was wet and sticky, and it dripped down, out of the jagged edges of the suit, down deep and tracing onto his legs and thighs.

And he woke again, as if something was pulling him out of his nightmares. It was dark outside. Had anyone come to check on him, see if he was okay? Surely Pepper had.

Then, as if like a light switch, he was out again. The world wasn't spinning at least. Instead, he was in a bed. It looked like his bed; it was big like his bed, but it wasn't his room. There was nothing sleek or modern about it. It was just a room with four walls. All bland, no creativity.

Something heavy landed on his chest.

"The Man of Iron wakes for his guest. Finally…"

The voice. It was such a haunting, haughty voice. "Loki…"

"Ah yes, you recognize me. That saves the introductions." Loki seemed to be holding Tony down with his knees, pinning him against the bed. Part of it didn't seem intimidating, except that when he looked at Loki there was no clear picture. Just dizzy swirls of color, like the world was smeared in finger paint.

"Why are you here?...You're an idiot."

"I am in the safest place in the world," Loki said, leaning down.

"In the middle of a S.H.I.E.L.D protected facility." Even speaking was making him lose his breath. That, and Loki just seemed to press harder.

"I think not," Loki said. "In fact, you are nowhere near your safe havens; your dreams will not be protected." Loki let out a vicious, snake-like laugh and pulled away, almost flew away in more of the paint smears. But he was on Tony's right side in one moment.

"I will, however, offer you some condolences," his form switched the end of the bed. "I do not believe I have ever seen such a sorry Midgardian such as you. And to think how highly your intellect is praised…"suddenly, he was on the left in the next moment. "However, I believe we can come to a small deal because I can give the dear Man of Iron what he wants the most."

Tony was wheezing between anger and fear. "You could never…"

Loki was floating over top of him. "I can do so much that you cannot even fathom. I could hold your small world in my hands and crush it under the weight."

"You're weak," Tony said.

"No, I believe it is you that is weak." Tony blinked. "But I can change all that…if you give me your word."

"I…I would never do business with the likes of you."

Loki was tutting. "So quick to an answer without ever knowing the question. Running headfirst into things garnered you such…splendid results before."

The splotchy figure of Loki was pacing, his fingers tapping together in front of him like an old professor or wise man. "No I…"

"You waste the fleeting breaths your body gives you. You are sinking fast, mortal, and I only have so long of time. Especially should my hospitality give way now…" once again, Loki's knees were pressing into Tony's side, compressing the little air that was still left in his lungs. What was worse was that Loki's taloned fingers were squeezing around Tony's neck. "So let you consider, maybe, that these useless limbs of yours may be reanimated."

Only a choking sound came as Tony tried fighting the inky image. Now, Loki had his attention. "Yes…yes that seems to have caught you. What a strange idea, being able to do something that all should do. You do not realize how precious something is until it is lost from you. Now…tell me, do you agree that you want my help in this?"

The hands loosened. "Wh-what do you want?"

"That is regardless. How badly do you wish to walk again?"

Tony weighed it on his mind. His breathing seemed to worsen, his chest was crackling. The hands were stiff around his neck, like someone of stone was gripping him. "I want to walk," he hardly managed.

"Of course you do…"and the laughter began again, echoing and echoing in his ears.

Tony couldn't breathe. The world seemed like it was fleeting away, and when he opened his eyes from the nightmare, realizing that he was indeed in his own room, he was in distress. There was no one there to push him back down on the bed and to tell him to rest and relax. All that he had was a sweat covered pillow and strewn sheets.

* * *

"JARVIS!" he wheezed. Each breath moved a boulder.

"_Sir_?"

The world was spinning, but Tony wasn't closing his eyes for it this time. There would be no more falling asleep and having strange dreams and memories. "What time it is?"

"_It is 2:26 AM, sir_."

Tony's eyes rolled back in his head, and he wiggled, brave enough to reach for his phone dial a few numbers, but as he laid back and shivered, it seemed to go limp in his hand. It was just a mirage. Just a dream. He still couldn't feel anything. Still couldn't move.

The phone dropped out of his hand and onto the bed. He passed out again.

* * *

Hours later, Tony was jolted by something cold and icy sitting on top of his forehead and cheeks. His eyes rolled up to the blurry figure. "Tony? Tony, are you okay?"

He groaned, coughing heavily. "Loki…"

Pepper backed away, taking and putting the rag back in the small pan. "Tony?"

"He's…he's in the room; Loki is in the room…"he said. His voice was hoarse.

"Tony, I don't understand…"Pepper sat on the bed. "I think you've been having some bad dreams. You're fever spiked last night."

"No…no it…"but he tried to logic it out. Was it a dream? Or was it real? Or was it some strange mix of both?

"I've been thinking maybe you need to go to the hospital." Pepper said. "Make sure there aren't any complications."

"No," Tony said immediately. The doctor was dislikable and treated him like he was a child. "No, I'm fine…"but he stopped what he was saying.

Somewhere nearby he could hear a voice, almost phantom. It was like the blurry painted pictures in his dreams. "_Go seek healing_…"

A bout of coughing came over him, and Tony pulled up the covers over his face. Except it wasn't stopping. For the moments that he could breath, he felt like he was staring at the wall and expecting Loki to be there, manipulating him and squeezing hard against his chest as neck.

After so long, Pepper became all too concerned and started making calls. Her hand was tight around Tony's wrist, not knowing what else to do. All the while, Tony stared up at the ceiling, feeling as though he was witnessing Loki as a shadow.

At some point, there were multiple bodies around him, all of them concerned over his condition. All of it was a mess to Tony.

His vision began fading, and the darker it got, the clearer Loki became. He was like an image in Tony's eyelids, appearing every time Eddy blinked. "_And so…it begins, Man of Iron_."

* * *

They seemed to come and go in shifts in the lobby. None of them were let in the room, save for Pepper, who only did so despite not being allowed to. She had to see Tony and make sure that he was alright. At some point, Natasha had left, and it was Bruce left with Clint. Both of them seemed nervous, though neither of them spoke exactly. They would share glances occasionally, but the most important thing that seemed to happen was when Pepper emerged from the room.

"How's he doing?" Bruce asked.

"Still not conscious."

They fell silent for a second. "So who tells the Director?" Clint asked to break the silence.

"I think Fury already knows," Bruce said, hands wiping up his face and over his eyes. "The question is when will he show up and what will we tell him?"

"Tony's sick?" Clint asked, almost nonchalant.

Bruce seemed to be hiding something. "Or perhaps it was self-induced," he deducted. Clint seemed surprised, but Pepper had hardly flinched at the suggestion. "He was having very bad hallucinations, and there were some marks on him…maybe self-inflicted. They were mostly nail marks."

"Why would Tony do that?" Clint asked. "I mean, I know he's a bit…depressed but why now? Why so long after the accident?"

Bruce shrugged. "People are ticking time bombs," he almost laughed at the irony. "Sometimes it happens quickly. Other times…"he shrugged again.

All the while, Pepper's pacing greatened, going back and forth as the men further discussed it in hushed voices. The syringe wasn't the first time, and she hadn't told anyone of the others. Tony had been placed on watch before, but that was early. Now, there was only so much people could do without lording over Tony and watching his every move. He was a fairly private man, at least in some aspects.

"He was…talking about Loki," Pepper said. The men's conversation stopped. At that point, Clint stood up as if spurred by the name.

"As what?" Bruce asked. "What did he mention?"

The assistant's arms were crossed at the elbow, and she kept taking small strides across the floor just to give her something to do with her nervous energy. "He just said that…Loki was in the room with him. But it doesn't make sense."

"Well, was he?" Clint prompted.

"No, no. That's the thing. I was in the room with Tony when he woke back up. We were alone…"she sighed. "I told him it must have been a bad dream. I hadn't seen the scratches."

Bruce was quiet, contemplating gently on the subject. Clint, however, was much louder in the thoughts. "You weren't there all night though, were you?"

"No, no of course not. Tony would…"

Pepper couldn't finish her sentence for Clint's interruption. "Then maybe he could have entered sometime in the middle of the night, messed with Tony while he was sick."

"Now, now," a deep voice boomed across the hall. "Let's not jump to conclusions, Agent Barton." The three of them looked to where Fury was striding in, Maria Hill just behind him. "I'll take my chances that Stark has been less than truthful to everyone about his feelings." In particular, Fury was looking to Pepper.

"But sir," Clint said. "What if he was telling the truth? If Loki was in his room…"

"Then we would be on top of it," Fury said. "As of right now, there is no evidence to the claim. Thanks to Mr. Stark's security systems, we have managed to grab footage of his bedroom. There is not a trace of Loki anywhere in there." They all slacked, disappointed. "This leaves me with no choice but to believe this is all Stark's doing."

"He's been having a very hard time adjusting…"Pepper said. "He's still not himself."

"I am aware, Ms. Potts. However, he is too important to us to lose at this point. As of right now, Tony Stark will be placed under surveillance for his own safety."

"But…"Pepper tried to protest.

"There are no buts here, unless you want something worse to happen to him." Fury said, his tone deepening to a more frightening boom.

"He won't get any better that way." Pepper argued. "I've had this conversation with you before, if you remember." Fury was silent as Pepper stared him down. The other three looked on in fascination. "And we didn't have a good result then, either. He nearly drank himself to death."

"Ms. Potts, with all due respect, I don't think you or anyone else can help Stark right now," Fury said. "He will be watched, and that is all that can be done." And Fury left it on that note, turning towards the room to go in and look over Tony briefly. After, he left with Hill in tow.

Pepper fell into a chair, her whole body having turned to ooze after Fury left. Clint and Bruce sat beside her in their silence just as they had before. All they were left to do was wait for Tony to rise back into consciousness again.

A nurse passed by them, not even looking to them, and entered Tony's room wordlessly. Once inside, she went up to Tony, her hand on his wrist. Slowly, the form changed to reveal Loki standing there and staring down, pleased at his work. "This was far too easy…far too easy…"

* * *

A/N: I do worry I'm boring you guys. There's not a whole lot of action, romantic or otherwise. I'm trying! I swear!

I will say that I really do appreciate all the favorites and alerts, although sometimes a little feedback would be nice too. Constructive or otherwise. I'm in a new fandom, so I'm learning the ropes.

Until next time, KenSan out!


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